Switched
by dean-can-eat-my-pie
Summary: After dealing with a witch, Dean is sent to an alternate universe where he is a douchy brother to Sam, a horrible boss to Cas, an ungrateful son to Bobby, and a disappointment to himself. Now, Dean has to fix his relationships with the most important people in his life before his Sam brings him back to his world. There's only one problem: the supernatural exist on this world, too.
1. Freaking Witches

SWITCHED

CHAPTER ONE

He really knew better than to mock witches, but damn, he hated those fugly bitches with a passion. What had the damn rabbit done, huh? Perhaps the reason why he hated witches so much was because they were humans...humans that had willingly chosen to ruin their lives and become monsters. Whatever the reason, Dean hated the woman in front of him as soon as he laid eyes on her.

"The famous Winchester brothers," the witch smiled. She was beautiful, and Dean would've probably tried to bag her if she wasn't a fucking witch. "In my little house. You guys make my heart flutter."

"That's us, charming as ever," Dean grinned. "All you have to do to catch a guy's attention is to kill a couple of people, throw a chewed heart in for good meature, and we're all yours, baby."

The witch's eyes flashed. Sam had dugged into her past and discovered that the witch was killing all of the closest females to her crush, all so that he would look at her. Mocking her romance prowess was probably not a good idea, but what the hell.

"Dean," Sam warned, but Dean ignored him.

"I mean, your Romeo probably doens't fancy dead bodies too much, but I make a living out of it, sweetie," Dean grinned. "Tickles me just right."

"Shut up," she hissed. "Like you're so much better than me, Dean Winchester. At least I'm open about my feelings, instead of hiding me behind mountains of pie and beer. I love my angel, and I'm not afraid to admit it."

Sam glanced at him, and Dean knew he understood the reference. "Watch your mouth," he warned, all jokes aside.

She smiled sickly sweet. "What? Too pure for your taste?"

If she wanted a fight, Dean could give her a fight easily. "Pretty ironic, huh? I got more of a chance with an _Angel of the Lord_ than you with a banker," Dean sneered at her. "And I don't even have to kill any good samaritans."

"You bastard!" she brought her hand up, a tangle of words spilling from her mouth, and a green light flashed over the room.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, but Dean was knocked back, and was quickly enveloped by sweet, sweet, darkness.

Dean had been trained in every aspect of his life by his father. And that included sleep. He had been trained to hear everything, even while his mind rested, shifting through the noises to recognize those that were familiar, and those that were unwelcome. So when Dean heard the sudden alarm go off, he was on his feet before the alarm had gotten too loud.

Dean glanced at his empty hand, frowning. He had expected a gun to be there...he never felt asleep without his gun close by. He looked up at the room and realized he didn't recognize it. He wasn't in the motel he and Sam had rented. He was in someone's room.

The room was large, larger than the hotel room, with a comfortable king sized bed. There were picture frames all around the room, a stereo system, a large plasma TV, and a flat screen desktop on the far wall.

"What the fuck?" Dean wondered. "Did I bag a rich chick?"

He heard a phone ring, but he didn't recognize the ringtone. It certainly wasn't Smoke On The Water. But the ringing didn't stop, so Dean curiously followed the sound, noticing that the rest of the house seemed to be as large as the bedroom, and that it obviously belonged to someone loaded with cash.

The ringing was coming from a land-line, the phone hanging from the kitchen wall. Dean stared at it for a quiet second, then picked up when the noise became annoying.

"Dean?"

Relief flooded his body as he recognized Sammy's voice. "Sam? Man, it's good to hear your voice."

"I...what?"

"Dude, I'm in some stranger's house," Dean muttered into the phone. "I don't remember anything after that fucking witch mojo-ed me. What happened to you, man?"

"Dean, are you drunk?" Sam asked, his voice layered with annoyance.

"No, why would you ask that?" Dean asked defensively. "It's like ten in the morning."

"Exactly," Sam said. "I know you're in your house; I'm calling the land line, remember? And I haven't seen you in like three months, so I don't know what the hell happened to you yesterday. If you didn't wanna show up to my party, you should've said so sooner, instead of blowing me off. Would've saved you a plane ticket, you cheap bastard. But what did I expect, right?"`

Before Dean could say anything the land went dead. Dean stared at the phone, shocked. What the hell? A dark feeling settled in his stomach, remembering the words the witch had uttered. They sounded strangely familiar.

"Fuck," Dean muttered. He ran to the bathroom, stopping dead in front of the mirror.

The face that was staring back at him was his...in some twisted kind of way. He was thicker than before, but not with muscle. Flab had replaced the wiry six pack he had worked hard to maintain, and a beer belly hung over his belt. He was paler, none of the tan he had gained in his travels on his skin. His eyes were still green, but they were a bit duller, the color rather flat. His hair was also lighter, the sun never having blackened it. There were none of the roughness and jagged scars Dean remembered. This face was soft and pretty, that of a spoiled brat who had never done any hard work. But the worst part was his hair. Not the color of it...but the freaking length.

"I have a damn ponytail?" he shouted, grabbign a fistful of his hair. "Hell to the fucking no!" he growled and hurriedly searched for some scissors, cutting the soft hair when he found them. Dean had often give himself and Sam haircuts when they were younger, and often he had had to do it with something less comfortable than scissors,so by the time he was over hacking at his hair, he was back to his familiar short haircut

Dean stared at the mirror, still freaked out by the softness of his appearance, but a little more happy now that his hair was back to normal.

Now back to the situation at hand. Dean was pretty sure he had been zapped to a new dimension, much like Balthazar had done before. But this was different. Instead of traveling with his body, Dean seemed to have only traveled in mind. So this body belonged to the Dean in this dimension.

"Dude, you need to excersice," he muttered at the mirror, touching his round stomach. "I never thougt I would say it, but I need to lay off the pie."

It probably wasn't a good idea to go out for now. Hell knew what this world was like, and Dean didn't want to be unprepared. So instead, he went back to the (his) room and turned on the desktop.

He googled recent knews and found out that this was a relatively normal world. It was kind of like the normal world he had visited with Sam, except that in this one, he was a douchebag brother instead of a damn actor. There had never been an apocalypse in this world before, nor demons.

But then he came upon knews that had him reeling. It was an old story, perhaps ten years old. The headline read JOHN AND MARY WINCHESTER DEAD. It was a story about a car crash that had taken his parents lives when he was eighteen. John had been CEO of some kind of uppity company, and he had left all of his money to Dean and Sam. There was another story, this one focusing on the fact that Dean and Sam were, apparently, not very close. Dean had even sued Sam for his share of the inheritance, which Sam had given to him after Dean had promised just enough money to put him through law school.

Feeling sick to his stomach, Dean turned off the computer. He was a damn bastard in this world. He was surprised Sam even talked to him, let alone invite him over to a party. But Dean could fix it. He hadn't found any signs of something supernatural going on in this world, so his only hope was that his Sam was scouring the world for a way to bring him back. He glanced at the clock, noticing that it was already four in the morning. Shit, time had gone by fast.

He walked down to the kitchen, cursing when he found nothing but rabbit food in the fridge.

"I'm a freaking princess," Dean muttered, grabbing the jug of juice of drinking from it. "How can I be fat with all of this hippie food?"

The phone rang again and Dean quickly answered, hoping it was Sammy.

"Mr. Winchester?"

"Who's this?" Dean sighed, disappointed.

"Um, it's Castiel, you're assistant?"

Dean immidieatly perked up. "Cas? Man, it's good to hear from you."

He heard a cough from the other line, then Cas's deep voice replied. "Um, thank you?"

"Why are you calling?" Dean asked, suddenly curious.

"Well, sir, you didn't show up at the office," Cas replied. "And you won't answer your phone."

"Oh yeah," Dean murmured, a different idea forming in his mind. "Hey, Cas...do you know where Sammy lives?"

"Sam, you're brother?" Cas asked, confusion clear in his voice.

"Yeah."

"He lives in California. I believe he still hasn't graduated from Stanford," Cas replied.

"And do you know about this party he's having?"

"Yes sir. I already wrote an apology letter and sent it to him," Cas said quickly, clearly thinking Dean was going to chide him.

"Scratch that," Dean said. "Clear my schedule for whatever time, dude. I'm going to California."

"I...sir, you have a meeting-."

"Cas, I'm going to Sam's party," Dean replied. "Oh, and so are you, mister. You're my assistant, right?"

"Yes, sir," Cas sighed into the phone, clearly disappointed over something. "Do you want me to get a plane ticket for tonight?"

"Hell no, I hate fucking airplanes," Dean replied. "I'm driving baby."

"Baby?"

"My Impala," Dean replied, his voice dangerously low. He better fucking own the Impala in this fucking universe.

"Sir, you don't own a car."

"FUCK IT," Dean yelled, punching the wall hard enough to draw blood. "Damn it, Cas! What about my dad? Didn't he drive a '67 Chevy Impala?"

"I wouldn't know, sir," Cas replied, his voice soft.

"Alright, alright," Dean sighed. "Just get your hands on a fucking car and pick me up. How long until we get to Stanford, anyway?"

"About seventeen hours," Castiel replied.

"Well, you better hurry your ass up," Dean said and hung up. He sighed. He was going to make things better. This might not be his real life, but he couldn't imagine living in any world where Sam wasn't his baby brother, his Impala wasn't parked outside, and Cas wasn't his friend.

He walked to his bedroom again, and searched for a duffel bag. He found a set of suitcases, and finding nothing better, grabbed the smallest one and started packing.

"Hell no," he muttered, opening the door to his closet. It was all suits. Armani suits, Gucci suits...blue, black, grey...what the fuck? He searched through his clothes, finally finding two old pair of jeans and three plain black t-shirts. He could wear those until he found time to buy some proper clothes in California. He couldn't believe this man had all this money and wasted it on the wrong clothes.

He grabbed some briefs, black slacks, and a plain blue t-shirt before heading to the shower, realizing he smelled. He took a quick shower, feeling like he shouldn't take too much time with this body in the shower.

But when he stepped out of the shower and looked at himself once again in the mirror, he was surprised to see that he had changed yet again. He looked more like himself now, though there were still somethings off. His skin still wasn't tanned, though it was no longer pale and pasty. His eyes were brighter, his hair darker, and lithe mucles had replaced his baby fat. He still wasn't in the perfect hunter condition he had trained so hard to achieve, but now he looked like a normal twenty-six year old.

So maybe his body was changing with time. Maybe the witch hadn't been that powerful and could only manage to send him in time intervals. That would explain why he was changing. He wondered in he was changing back in his dimension, growing paler, weaker, and with more hair. He closed his eyes, horrified at the thought of Sam mocking him for his long hair, but a knock on his door startled him out of that pit of hell.

Cas was here.


	2. Castiel

Dean had been a little freaked out by his appearance-okay, _alot_-but at least this Cas looked just like the one back in his universe, trench coat and all. Dean could only tell it was a different person because Cas's face was very expressive, and right now, it was showing nerves.

"Something wrong?" Dean asked as soon as he opened the door and noticed Cas's apprehension.

"Um? No, nothing at all," Cas said too quickly. His eyes ran over his clothes, probably surprised to see him dressed so casually. "You look different, sir."

"Been hitting the gym," Dean grinned, patting Cas on the back and pushing him inside the house. "I already have all my shit put together. You want to eat something before we go? Hit the bathroom? We're not stopping too often for potty breaks, okay."

Cas's eyebrows had climbed so high on his forehead they almost disappeared into his hairline. He jumped a little when Dean finished talking, probably snapping himself out of his enthrallment. "Um, no, I'm fine, thank you, sir. Would you like me to get your bags?"

"Nope, I got them," Dean said, moving towards his room. "And lose the damn 'sir', Cas," he yelled back. "Just call me Dean." He grabbed his bags from his room, and returned to where Cas was rooted to the spot.

"Sir, are you sure you're okay?" he asked, suddenly worried. "You're acting very strange."

Dean sighed. This was to be expected. Cas was probably used to a douchebag boss who yelled at him and treated him like shit. But he wasn't about to start manhandling the not-angel right now. He was here to fix the crap Douche-Dean had made of his life, not make it worse. "There's nothing wrong with me, Cas. Look, I'm just trying to fix things with Sam, okay? And drop the 'sir', I don't like it, really. Now, are you good to go?"

"Yes, si-Dean," Cas said, correcting himself.

"Alright, now let's-a _Prius_?" Dean yelled, opening the front door and catching sight of Cas's abomination. "You drive a fucking _Prius_?"

"It's-it's company issued, Dean," Cas said nervously. "_You_ picked it for me."

"Of course I did," Dean muttered. "I can't believe I gotta drive a damn Prius."

"Um..._I'm_ driving," Cas said, keys on hand.

"Like hell you are," Dean said, snatching the keys from him.

"Dean, you don't know how to drive," Cas said as he climbed into the driver's side.

"You just watch me," Dean said. He shoved the key into the ignition and turned it. The car roared to life. "Don't know how to drive," Dean muttered to himself angrily as he put on the seatbelt. "_Me!_ Don't know how to damn drive. God, I wish I was in front of myself so I could shoot myself in the face. Cas, get in the damn car!" he yelled the last part, leaning over the passanger side to open the door.

Cas quickly climbed in and strapped himself in, clutching the door and the armrest as Dean backed the car.

"Pansy," Dean muttered.

The drive started off a bit awkward, probably because Cas kept his eyes closed for the first twenty minutes, muttering some kind of prayer under his breath over and over again. Dean ignored him, turned on some ACDC, and sang-almost yelled-to the music.

"I didn't peg you for a rock fan," Cas said over the sound of the music.

"Are you kidding? ACDC rocks," Dean grinned, but turned down the music. "So, still afraid of my driving?"

"I don't know where you found the time to learn," Cas muttered. "You're usually buried in women-Oh! I'm so sorry, sir, I didn't mean-."

"Cas, chill," Dean laughed, interrupting him. "Look, you're off work right now. We're just to buddies going off on a field trip, alright?"

"Buddies?" Cas said, eyebrow rising in surprise.

"Yeah, so maybe I've been a bit of an asshole-"

"Understatement."

"-_but_...I'm trying to be a better guy, okay? And I would really like it if we were friends."

Cas was silent for a minute, eyes staring at the road. Dean kept didn't know this Castiel, he didn't know what made him angry, or what made him crack a smile. He didn't even know if this Castiel was religious or not...but he couldn't imagine a world where Cas wasn't his friend. _Not that that's all you want_, he muttered angrily to himself.

"Shouldn't friends know a bit about each other?" Cas finally spoke, and Dean relaxed into his seat.

"So, what do you want to know?" Dean asked.

"Why did you take everything from your brother?"

Dean jerked so badly the car momentarily left the lane. He managed to swerve back into his lane, and gasped at Cas.

"Too personal?" Cas asked, his face pale.

"No...I mean, I wasn't expecting that," Dean admitted, forcing himself to calm down. "I...to be honest, I don't know why I did that. I mean, Sam means everything to me, you know? Sammy...that kid is going places. He's the smart one, the good one...me? I make a mess of everything, often dragging the people I care about down with me. Sam is the only good thing in my life, and the thought of him hating me...I can't live with that, you know? I gotta make things right with him; I have to prove to him that I love him...he's the only family I have." Dean quieted down, aware that he had spoken too much. He didn't do chick-flick moments, and this was starting to feel like one.

"Sam doesn't hate you," Cas said quietly. "He...he often calls the office, you know. He stopped leaving you messages when he realized you weren't getting them and started asking me about how you were doing. He's the reason I know you're allergic to cinammon. He was very disappointed when you said you weren't going to his engagement party. He-"

"Engagement?" Dean yelled, and this time he swerved the car to the side, parking it on the grassy field. "Sam is getting _married_?"

"Um, yes?" Cas murmured nervously. "I thought you knew that already. I mean, he's been dating Jess for about three years now."

"Jess," Dean breathed. Jess was alive, Sam was marrying her. This life was so perfect! What the hell was wrong with Dean, then? Why had he turned into such a huge dick? If he had this life...if he could bring Jess back to Sam...he would've done it in an instant.

"Cas, you better pray to whatever deity you have, because I'm getting us to Stanford _now_," Dean growled, and pushed down on the gas pedal.

Cas yelped, and flattened his body against the seat as the car screeched into the lane. Dean didn't care; he was gonna be at that party even if it killed him.

here...


	3. Sam

Dean stopped just once, and only because Cas was too much of a girl to pee in a bottle. Of course, Dean wouldn't even have suggested it if he were driving Baby, but since he was stuck with the pretentious silver piece of crap, he really couldn't give a rat's ass.

Despite the lack of sleep, Dean was feeling happy. They had stopped at a hotel to take a quick shower, and Dean had caught a glimpse of Cas's naked torso before he quickly closed the bathroom door behind him to hide his flaming cheeks. He had also noticed that he was now completely back to normal, down to the multiple scars adorning his body. He wore a long sleeve shirt to hide Cas's hand print burned on his shoulder, not wanting to explain _that_. He was going to have to explain enough with his sudden change in appearance to Sam, and didn't want to add Angels and Demons to that concoction.

"Which one is Sammy's dorm again?" Dean asked Cas as the shorter man looked up Sam's address on his phone.

"B217," Cas said. "Two doors down."

Dean swallowed a lump in his throat, suddenly as nervous as the first time he had visited Sam's dorm room to convince him to join him and look for Dad. He ignored the worried look Cas sent him, squared his shoulders, purposely walked towards the door marked 217, and knocked loudly three times.

"Coming!" A chirp voice called, and the door opened to reveal a pretty girl with long blonde hair dressed in simple blue jeans and pink tee. "Can I help-oof!"

Dean knocked the breath out of her as he enveloped her in a tight hug. _Jess_! Sammy's girlfriend was alive! The girl that made his brother's face split into the brightest smile Dean had seen in his face since they were little and Dean gave him the last bowl of Lucky Charms. She was alive, and breathing, and-oh, struggling.

Dean quickly sat her down and loosened his hold, but didn't let go. "Jess! Damn, it's good to see you!"

"Dean?" she asked hesitantly. "Um, what are you doing here?"

"What do you mean? Sam said there was going to be a party," Dean grinned, taking a step back. Jess wrapped her arms around herself and stood awkwardly, the door open between them.

"Dean?"

Dean looked up and met eyes with Sam. His hair was as long as Dean remembered, and he was wearing a loose pair of sweat pants and a baggy sweater with the university's logo on the front. He looked younger than Dean remembered, but that was probably because in this world, he wasn't forced to grow up a hunter.

"Hiya, Sammy," Dean grinned. "Didn't expect to see me here, did you?"

"No," Sam answered bluntly, crossing his arms in front of him. "What _are_ you doing here?"

"Damn, what's with the hostility?" Dean said, trying to joke his way around them. It clearly wasn't working. "Look, it's your engagement party. I'm not going to miss _that_."

"You cut your hair," Sam finally said, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"What? Oh, yeah," Dean said, running a hand through his short hair. "There's only room in this family for one girl, Samantha. Lost the weight, too. Damn, how many pies did I eat a day, huh?"

Sam didn't answer, his eyes still eying him warily.

"Um, hi , Sam," Cas said after an awkward minute of silence. Sam's eyes moved to the shorter man, and a soft smile graced his face for the first time since they've arrived.

"Hello, Cas. What are you doing here?" Dean noticed with annoyance that the question was asked with honest curiuosity instead of hostility.

"Well, you _did_ invite me to your party," Cas shrugged.

"But I thought you had that family reunion to go to," Sam frowned.

Dean felt Cas tense up beside him, and he turned to gasp at him. "Family _reunion_? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think it was important," Cas shrugged, but he wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Not important? Not _important_? It's a family reunion, Cas, of course it's important!" Dean yelled. "I mean, your family _are _a bunch of flying dickheads, but still. Well, Gabriel isn't _that_ bad, the guy has a good sense of humor, and Balthazar isn't _too_ annoying, but Raphael? Michael? Anna, the fucking bitch who tried to-." Dean stopped himself, realizing he was saying too much. Cas's eyebrows were doing the same thing as before, where they climbed up to his hairline, and Dean had to admit it was kind of cute, though not as cute as when he tilted his head to the side in confusion-_Get a grip, Winchester! You're about to blow your cover!_

"I wasn't aware that you had met my siblings," Cas said, surprise layering his voice. "Though I don't understand what you have against Anna. She is a sweet girl."

"Sweet my ass," Dean fumed, remembering clearly how the red-head had tried to kill his mother. "Look, if you want, you can catch a plane back home. I don't have any cash on me, but I can give you like a raise or a bonus, or whatever it is that you get in crap jobs."

"That's okay, Dean," Cas said, smiling softly. "Actually, Gabriel was invited to Sam's engagement party as well, and he is the only one in the family I enjoy spending time with. Surprisingly enough, you are correct: my family _are_ a bunch of dickheads."

Dean grinned. "And? Where is he?"

"In South Dakota, as are all the other guests," Sam piped in. "Seeing as the party is in Sioux Falls."

"You're having the party at Bobby's house?" Dean asked, surprised.

"Bobby offered," Sam nodded. "Besides, Bobby's is close to everyone, including Jess's parents. We were actually packing for the trip. The plane leaves in eight hours."

Dean groaned to himself, but gave Cas a bright smile. "I guess we need to buy plane tickets."

"Dean," Sam said sternly, moving up to place a long arm around Jess's petite shoulders. "You don't have to go to the party if you don't want to. You don't have to prove anything."

"I'm not trying to prove anything, Sammy," Dean said, trying to keep his voice light. "This is what family does."

"This isn't what our family does," Sam snapped. "And since when do you call me Sammy?"

"Since always," Dean shrugged. He rubbed the back of his neck as nervousness nested in his belly. He knew the only way to get to Sam-if he was anything like _his _Sam-when he was being this stubborn, was to show a sickly amount of feelings. He glanced at Cas, who nodded minutely, and then at Sam, who was staring at him suspiciously. That expression, so familiar and foreign to Dean, was what finally pushed him.

"Look, Sammy, just...trust me, okay? I know I've done a bunch of stupid stuff, but I just...I wanna do this, okay? I want to _fix _this. I _have_ to fix this. We're brothers, for God's sake! I've been given a second chance to do this right, and I'm not about to waste it. You're going to marry Jess and grow old and have a bunch of long-haired little nerds that are going to be just a bit cute because you married the hottest chick in college and because you have that kicked puppy look that for some reason girls dig. So put on some real clothes and take me and Cas to lunch so we can catch up and start being the brothers we are supposed to be."

Sam stared at him, mouth slightly agape. He turned to Jess, who shrugged uselessly, then turned back to Dean, a hesitant smile on his face.

"A-alright," he said, nodding awkwardly. "I..um...just give me like five minutes. Um, you wanna come in?"

"Thanks," Dean grinned, stepping in.

"I'll get you something to drink. You want a beer, Cas?" Jess asked over her shoulder as she walked towards the small make-shift kitchen in the room.

"No, thank you."

"Dean?"

"Nah."

Cas sat down on the worn couch against the wall, but Dean walked around the room, glancing at the framed photographs. There were a lot of people Dean didn't recognize in them, most of them of Sam and Jess with their friends, but there were a couple of Mary and John. There was even a Christmas picture where all four of them stood in front of a chimney with matching ugly green sweaters. Dean picked up the frame, smiling softly. Sam was about ten in that picture, still the scrawny little kid that was terrified of clowns. Dean was fourteen, and in the picture he was glaring off to the side, clearly hating the whole experience. John had a hand on his shoulder, probably keeping him from running off, and Mary had her arms wrapped around Sam's shoulders, a soft smile on her lips.

"Hey, Sammy?" Dean called.

"Yeah?" Sam asked, poking his head out of his room, struggling to put on a shirt.

"Did Dad happen to drive a '67 Chevy Impala?" Dean asked.

"Nope," Sam said, returning to his room. Dean heard a soft thump, a loud crash, and a hushed 'ow!' "I'm okay!" Sam called.

"What did he drive, then?" Dean asked.

"A van. Don't you remember the story? Mom made him promise to buy it when they were younger?"

"Hmm. Right," Dean murmured. Of course. Angels didn't exist in this world. So they had never sent him back in time, and he never convinced John to buy the Impala. This world was all kinds of fucked up.

His eyes fell on a bunch of papers stacked on the coffee table. The first one look like a newspaper clipping, and by the looks of it, it was quite old. Curious, Dean leafed through the papers, frowning when he realized they were all stories about disappearances in an Illinois highway. The disappearances went as far back as ten years, so the authorities had already ruled out their first suspect, a man that had died two years after the first disappearance.

'"Those are dead cases," Sam's voice suddenly said, surprising Dean. "We're supposed to be studying them and trying to figure out who the culprit was. I have no idea yet, man."

Dean set the clippings back on the table and turned to Sam with what he hoped was a bright smile. "I'm sure you'll figure it out. You _are_ the smart one in the family."

"Thanks," Sam grinned, though something flashed in his eyes too quickly for Dean to recognize. "So where are we eating?"

"I've never visited California. What's a good restaurant?" Cas asked.

"Well, I want pie," Dean shrugged. "You'll probably swallow like seven burgers, and Sammy here likes to munch on rabbit food. Why don't you pick, Jess? Unless you're a health freak, like Sam over here."

"Salads are good for you, Dean," Sam said, and gave him a bitch face.

Dean grinned.

"What about we go to Berny's?" Jess asked. "Berny's is this really nice restaurant down the street. And they have cake."

"Cake is not pie," Dean rolled his eyes. "God, you and Sam are really meant to be, you know. Whatever, we're wasting daylight. Let's go." He led the way outside, trying really hard to keep the clippings away from his mind. The case sounded too much like a vengeful spirit for his liking. He had thought this world didn't have the supernatural, but maybe he was wrong. After all, he had only researched demonic omens like the ones back home. Of course, this world clearly wasn't going through the apocalypse, and Sam and Dean hadn't grown up to be hunters-wait, Sam and Dean _weren't _hunters. Why did he care if a vengeful spirit was attacking some town in Illinois? If there were ghosts, then there were probably other hunters as well. It wasn't his responsibility to protect these people. This wasn't his world. His only problem now was Sam. Dean new his brother too well to think Sam had forgiven him that easily. It was going to take hard work, and he didn't know how much time he had before his Sam dragged him back to his dimension.

"Are you okay, Dean?" Cas asked him quietly as Jess and Sam talked loudly about wedding decorations.

"Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine, Cas," Dean smiled, flashing the not-angel a quick smile. He wasn't about to be honest with the man. He was strangely familiar to his angel (he's not _your_ angel, Dean! Dude, stop pining!) but he still wasn't Castiel. Sometimes, Dean caught pieces of Jimmy in him, like when he raised his eyebrows in confusion, or the way his voice wasn't as deep as he remembered. Unfortunately, he still had that disconcerting way of looking at him, like he could see his every thought and memory.

Cas frowned, but before he could probe, Sam called back to him."Hey Dean! What do you think is better? Lavander and eggshell white or ivory and silver?"

Dean took the interruption like a lifeline and turned to his younger brother. "Dude, could you be any more gay? Wait, don't answer that."

Sam gave him another of his famous bitch faces and Dean grinned in reply, the vengeful spirit long forgotten.


	4. The Black-Eyed Driver

Sam opened the door quietly, in case Dean was still asleep. Almost a day had gone by, and his brother still hadn't regained consciousness. Sam was trying not to worry too much; it was clear that the witch had cast some sort of spell to change Dean's appearance. Sam had to admit, it _was_ pretty funny to see his usually handsome and cocky brother with long hair and a small beer belly.

But twenty-two hours was an awfully long time to be unconscious, and Sam was running out of books to find a counter spell for Dean's condition.

He placed down the six pack of beer he had bought, along with the carry out. He had bought Dean a burger, still hoping his brother would wake up, and a fruit salad for himself.

"Ugh...my fucking head hurts."

Sam whipped around at the sound of Dean's voice, hurrying to his side as Dean struggled to a sitting position.

"Dean? Are you okay?" he asked worriedly, checking his forehead for a fever.

"Samuel?" Dean asked, looking at him, confused. "What are you doing here?" He looked around at the hotel and his eyes widened. "What am _I_ doing here? _What_ is this place?"

"Umm...it's our hotel," Sam replied, feeling dread spread through his body. Dean had never called him Samuel before, not even when he was pissed. "We checked in three days ago, remember?"

"No," Dean answered, and a hint of panic had tinted his voice. "Three days ago, I was in _my_ house, in _my_ bed, and _you_ were in California with Jess."

"Haha. That's not funny, Dean," Sam said, his voice void of humor. "Jess is dead, remember?"

"Jess is dead?" Dean repeated, clearly surprised. "I'm-I'm sorry," he continued awkwardly. "How did it happen?"

"Azazel killed her," Sam answered slowly. "But you know this already Dean."

"Are you okay, Samuel?" Dean asked as if _Sam_ was the one acting funny. "I'm sorry about Jess, okay, but there's nothing I can do, okay? I mean, I'm sure Bobby would be more than happy to lend a shoulder to cry on, but I have work to do. I can't just take a day off!"

"Dean, Azazel is the demon that killed Mom and Dad, remember?" Sam snapped. "Jess's been dead for about four years now. _You_ were there when I found her, remember? Damn it, _you_ were the one who killed Azazel."

"Oh for _God's sake_! Not this demon bull again," Dean snapped. "Sam, how many times do I have to tell you? Demons. Aren't. Real. Our parents's deaths were an accident, alright? I know you don't want to believe that, but it was. You're a bit too old to be making up these stories, don't you think? Look, if you want, I can give you some money so you can get yourself a therapist. Just don't bother me again, alright?"

Sam straightened up quickly, turned to his bed, found his canteen inside his duffel, and poured the contents on Dean.

"What the hell, Samuel!" Dean shouted, jumping off the bed. "What the hell was that for?"

"Not a demon," Sam muttered, ignoring him. "Maybe shape shifter?" he wondered, pulling out a silver knife.

"Sam...Sam, what are you doing?" Dean asked with a high-pitched voice. He made as if to back away, but Sam grabbed his hand and sliced a thin stripe before Dean could react. "Ouch!"

"Guess not," Sam said, frowning at his brother. "Then what the hell are you?"

"Me?" Dean yelled, clutching his arm. "You're the freak cutting _me_ up! What the hell is wrong with you, Samuel?"

"Me? What is wrong with _you_, Dean!" Sam shouted back. "Since when do you call me Samuel, huh? Since when don't you believe in demons, huh? Since when do you-oh!" realization hit Sam like a bag of bricks and he took a step back, mind reeling. "You really don't know anything, do you?"

"I don't know what _you're_ talking about, if that's what you mean," Dean snapped. "Look, just tell me where I am and we can part ways. I won't press charges or anything. Just let me go home."

"Yeah, like _that's_ gonna happen," Sam snorted. "The monsters are going to have a field day with you in the streets. You're not exactly made for running," he added, eying Dean's belly.

"You're the health nut," Dean snapped, blushing furiously as he folded his hands in front of his stomach. "And why do you keep insisting monsters exist?"

"I guess they don't where you come from," Sam frowned, thinking. If he was right and Dean had been dragged to another dimension, then he was going to need serious magic to bring him back. He couldn't exactly go to a witch for help, and he had never come across something like this before. Hell, he didn't even believe other dimensions existed before this.

Before he could began to panic, however, the sound of rustling feathers filled the room and Dean gave a very unmanly yelp.

"Cas! Man, it's good to see you," Sam sighed in relief, turning to the angel.

"What is wrong with Dean?" Cas asked, his eyes on the gaping man. "Why is he in another dimension?" he asked again, turning to look at Sam.

"Met a witch, Dean was an arrogant dick, you know the drill," Sam shrugged. "And now, I'm stuck with this dude. Please tell me there's a way to send him back."

"Another dimension!" Dean squealed, his eyes widening in terror. He pointed a shaking finger at Castiel, and his mouth worked for a few seconds before actual words spilled out: "Why is my assitant here? And _how in the freaking hell did he _get_ here_?"

Castiel and Sam both ignored him.

"We need to bring Dean back, Sam," Castiel said in his regular gravely voice. He didn't seem too upset, but yet again, Sam had never been able to read the angel as well as Dean.

"Don't you think I know that?" Sam snapped.

"You don't understand, Sam," Castiel cut in, and his voice was now razor sharp. "He is Dean Winchester," Castiel continued, pointing to Dean. "He is still Sam Winchester's brother and John Winchester's son. He is still Michael's vessel...and he isn't set against saying 'yes'."

"You mean-."

"I am not the only angel that has noticed the change. I'm not even the only _thing_that has noticed. If we don't send him back soon, there are only two possible outcomes: either he dies, or he says yes to Michael and destroys half the world in the process."

"Crap," Sam muttered, pushing his hair back from his face in a nervous gesture. "_Crap_!"

"What the hell is going on!" Dean yelled. "Could somebody explain what's going on to me?"

"You have traveled to a different dimension," Castiel replied, eyes falling sharply on Dean. "In this dimension, you and Sam are hunters of the supernatural. Currently, you are both trying to stop the apocalypse."

"You got to be kidding me," Dean gasped, eyes wide with fear.

Cas frowned. "I would not kid about something like this, Dean."

"Okay, so how do you get me back?" Dean asked.

"Can't you do it, Cas?" Sam asked the angel.

Cas frowned and shook his head. "There are millions upon millions of different dimensions. I can only guess which one this Dean comes from. In order to switch them back, I need to know in which dimension Dean landed. For that, I need to talk to him."

"But how are you going to talk to him?" Sam asked, frowning. "You already said you don't know where he is."

"That's why we need to wait for Dean to contact us," Cas replied. "It might take days, weeks...it might not even be possible."

"Then that's not an option, Cas," Sam spat. "We need to find that witch that attacked Dean and make her tell us where she sent him."

"She might not know, Sam," Cas said calmly. "It is not an exact art."

"I don't care," Sam growled. "I'll make her talk, and if she really doesn't know anything, then I'll kill her out of principle. What?" he spat, turning to Dean who was giving him a strange look.

He jumped. "N-nothing. It's just...you seem to care alot about me...well, not me, but...you know what I mean."

"Of course I do!" Sam exclaimed. "We're brothers. I can't began to count how many times you've saved my life. You would do the same thing for me."

"_I_ wouldn't," Dean murmured. "And neither would you, in my world. Though I guess I do owe you an apology. It seems Samuel was right about the demons, after all."

"What? Are you saying we aren't brothers in your world?" Sam gasped.

"Samuel...we aren't even _friends_," Dean laughed humorlessly.

"This might narrow down the search," Cas suddenly piped in, frowning at Dean. "There aren't many worlds were you and Sam are not in talking terms. The bond you two have is strong enough to trascend dimensions. This is very good. I must go."

Before Sam could say anything, Cas disappeared in a flutter of wings.

"Wh-how can he do that?" Dean asked, amazed. "He isn't human, is he?"

"Who, Cas?" Sam grumbled, still upset at Dean's words. "No, he's angel."

"What? You have the hots for him?" Dean grinned.

"No! I mean, he's a literal angel," Sam snapped. "With wings and a halo. And to be completely honest, I think _you're_ the one that wants to jump his bones. At least _my_ Dean does."

"Had to be gay, too," Dean muttered.

"What do you mean, too?" Sam asked, surprised.

"What? No! I mean...you know, besides being a hunter, he's gay," Dean stuttered.

"Hmm...so, why do you hate me?" Sam sighed, taking a sit on the dinner table and pulling his salad towards him.

"What? I don't hate you," Dean murmured, taking a seat in front of him.

"Really? Because you just said we aren't friends. Dean and I have our problems, but he's always been there for me. I mean, he doens't even call me Samuel. It's all Sam or Sammy."

"So Mom and Dad aren't dead in this world?" Dean asked softly.

"Yeah, they are. Mom died when I was six months old, and Dad died a couple of years ago. Made a deal with Azazel, the demon that killed Mom and Jess."

"Hmm," Dean stared at the table, eyes unfocused.

"Dean?" Sam asked softly and waited for Dean's eyes to move up to his. "What happened to us?"

"I-I..." Dean gaped at him wordlessly, before sighing and leaning back on his chair. "I was always closer to Mom, you know. Since we were little. You used to run around Dad all day, but I would stay inside with Mom and cook or something. I...I was never that close to Dad. He wanted a good son, you know? A son that was good with the ladies, that was good at every sport, that went out to hunt deer with him, a son to be proud of. You were that son, Sam. I was...I was the soft one, the one that took too much from his mother."

Dean rubbed his face and took a swig from his beer before continuing. "It was my graduation when the accident happened. Mom and Dad were there, waiting for me to cross the stage, when they got a call from you. You had a game to go to, and your ride had canceled on you. Dad conviced Mom to go with him. The ceremony was just starting, and 'W' is pretty far down the line.

The principal pulled me aside after the ceremony. She told me that my parents had been in a car accident. Mom died instantly. You and Dad were in the hospital. You were fine, Dad was critical. I ran to the hospital, checked on you first. You were crying, fighting the nurses. You were screaming about a black eyed man. They had to sedate you. I went to Dad. He told me I had to take care of you; I was the only person left to protect you. It was my _duty_ to protect you. It was my last chance to prove to my father that I was a good son. 'Look after your brother, Dean,' he said 'Sam is going to do great stuff, and it is your job to make sure he gets there.'" Dean let out a strangled laughed, and when he looked up Sam could see years of bitterness in his eyes.

"When I went to you, you started begging for forgiveness. You said it wasn't your fault, it was the demon. The demon driving the car that hit you. It wasn't your fault at all that they had gotten in that car. It wasn't your fault at all...I should help you, you said, help you find that demon. It was only the both of us left, all we had was each other...we were brothers, and it was our job to kill the thing that killed Mom and Dad. So I left...before I could kill the thing that kill my parents."

"Me," Sam whispered. "You thought it was my fault."

Dean didn't meet his eyes. "I guess there really was a demon," he murmured. His shoulders were shaking and the hand gripping the beer bottle was white with the strain. Sam stood up quickly and hugged his brother just as a dry sob escaped his throat. Dean's arms wrapped around Sam and he buried his head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry Sammy," he mumbled into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Sammy. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Dean. It's okay," Sam murmured as Dean kept repeat 'I'm sorry'. He held his brother until the tears stopped, both his and Dean's.


	5. The Family Business

Humans were not meant to fly. Angels, maybe, but not humans. And giant pieces of metal were certainly not meant to be 250 thousand miles in the air. Dean was glad that the flight had not taken too long, and had crashed on the hotel bed as soon as Cas opened the door.

"I didn' t know you were afraid of heights," Cas said, beginning to unpack. Dean had insisted for them to take one room with two beds. He was so used to sleeping with Sam in the same room, so now that he couldn't, he at least had Cas.

"It' s not heights, Cas. It's just that humans aren't meant to fly," Dean sighed. "How much time do we have until we need to head to Bobby's?"

"About half an hour. Do you want me to unpack your clothes?"

"Nah, leave them." Dean groaned and rolled to his back. He rested his head on his arms and glanced at Cas, who was folding his clothes neatly into the ratty wardrobe. "It's weird seeing you so...casual."

Cas glanced down at his faded jeans and blue t-shirt. "Well, we have never socialized outside work."

"Which is a shame. You're a really good guy, Cas," Dean smiled. "I'm gonna take a shower, then we can head to Bobby's. Can I borrow a shirt?"

"My shirt?" Cas asked, his voice suddenly high.

"Yeah. I didn't bring much, since I was planning on buying them back in California."

"Yeah, sure," Cas nodded, handing him a plain black shirt.

Dean grabbed his spare pair of jeans, black briefs, and Cas's t-shirt before heading to the bathroom. He took a quick shower to wash away the sweat from the flight, then dried himself off. Cas's shirt fitted Dean a little tight around the shoulders and chest, and if he raised his arms, the shirt would ride up above his belly button, but that was okay. After all, while Cas had a wirely muscular frame, Dean's muscle was a bit more bulky. He styled his hair like he usually did and quickly brushed his teeth. When he stepped out, Cas had already changed into a snug pair of black jeans and a dark blue dress shirt. since he hadn't been nervously sweating on the plane, he didn't have to worry about a shower.

"You ready?" Cas asked, glancing up at him.

Dean tore his eyes away from Cas's perky ass and nodded. "How are we getting there?"

"I called for a cab," Cas said, leading the way out.

"We should probably rent a car, though," Dean frowned.

"I thought...it's nothing."

"What is it?" Dean asked as Cas climbed into the back seat of the yellow cab waiting for them.

Cas gave the address to the driver as Dean climbed in next to him, but didn't reply.

"Cas, what were you going to say?"

Cas glanced at him nervously, then sighed. "It's just...I didn't think you wanted to drive after your parent's deaths. You never seemed interested."

"Oh." Dean didn't have a better response. Driving was a part of him, it had always been. Getting on his baby, making her purr with life, and driving off to God knows where...it was the best feeling in the world, especially when Sam was by his side. Not being able to do that...well, that was just sad. It pained him to think he had never experienced that complete feeling of freedom. Yeah, he had taken his anger on his baby once before, when he took a crowbar to her beautiful frame...but that had been misdirected anger, and he had worshipped her ever since. Not having his baby here...it actually pained him.

"But this is good," Cas smiled, placing a hand on his knee and giving it a quick squeeze before letting go. "It's good that you're starting to let go."

"Mmm. Yeah," Dean murmured. The car ride was short, but silent. Cas hummed something that sounded suspiciously like Smoke On The Water, but Dean didn't make a comment.

The cab dropped the off in the familiar stretch of land Dean had parked his baby so often. A couple of cars that were too clean to be part of Bobby's collection were already parked there, and Dean could see a group of people standing off to the side.

"They're probably trying to figure out where to set up the tables and everything," Cas murmured. "Sam wanted to rent a place, but Jess said this was okay. More homely."

"That girl is good for Sam," Dean murmured. "He's going to be so happy with her."

Cas didn't say anything. As they neared the group of people, Dean was surprised to see familiar was Ellen, Jo, Ash, Garth, Chuck, Gabriel, Kali, and even Sheriff Jody. People that back home hadn't even met each other were standing in Bobby's garage, ready to help prepare Sam's engagement party.

Sam was the first to see them, a huge smile breaking over his face. "Cas! Dean! I thought you guys got lost or something."

"Sorry, Sammy, the traffic was a bitch," Dean grinned, swinging an arm around his brother's shoulder. It was a bit awkward, considering Sam was two inches taller than him. "So, any ideas?"

"None yet," Sam replied, glancing around at the group nervously.

Dean noticed that most of them were giving him strange looks, even suspicious. Gabriel was the only one staring at him with anger.

"So you're Cassie's shitty boss," he snapped.

"Gabriel!" Cas snapped, afronted.

"What? The guy treats you like crap for five years, makes you drive all the way to California, making you miss your family reunion by the way, and you still don't think he's an asshole?"

"That still doesn't give you the right to-."

"It's okay, Cas," Dean interrupted. "He's right. And I don't think I have apologized about the whole family reunion thing yet."

"And we both agreed that my family are a bunch of dicks, so it's okay," Cas snapped. "Besides, I rather be here with you, Sam, and Gabriel, than back home."

Dean grinned at Cas, then turned to the others. "Anybody else wants to call me out on my shit? 'Cause this might be the only chance you-." Dean stopped mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open, and his eyes staring off.

"Dean?" Sam asked, worried. "What's wrong?"

"Bobby," Dean whispered, "Bobby, is that-is that a '67 Chevy Impala?"

Bobby frowned and turned to the rusty cas Dean was staring at with adoration. "Yeah. It's been there for a couple of years."

"I...let me buy it from you," Dean said quickly.

"What?" Bobby's frown deepened. "The car is a piece of crap. It hasn't worked in three years."

"I don't care. Let me buy it," Dean begged.

Bobby gave him a strange look, then shrugged. "If you can fix it, you can have it."

Dean laughed, and completely ignoring everyone's stares, ran to the car. "Oh baby, what did they do to you?" he murmured, running his hands across the rusty exterior. "I'm going to fix you soon, baby. Don't you worry, you'll be good as new."

"Dean, are you okay?" Sam called. "What's with the car?"

"What's with the car?" Dean gasped, turning to his brother. "What's with the _car_? Sam, this is a 1967 Chevy Impala. Rolled off the line in Janesville, Wisconsin on April 24. It has an automatic transmission, reclining seats, no douchy CD player, and purrs like a cat. Trust me, this car is forty years old, and it can still glide across the ground. This isn't a car, Sam Winchester, this is _The _Impala, my _baby_, the most beautiful car in the world."

"Dude, do you want a room?" Sam said, but he sounded completely serious.

"Don't listen to him, baby, he's just jealous," Dean murmured, patting the hood affectionally. "Wait, she's still missing something." Deam opened the passanger door and pulled on the tore holstery on the door. He pulled out his pocket knife-yeah, he wasn't about to travel anywhere naked!-and quickly carved his initials on the car. He straightened and handed the knife to Sam. "Your turn."

"What? Why do you have a knife?" Sam always did ask the important questions.

Dean shrugged. "Habit. Now, carve your initials. This is the Winchester's car, mostly mine but you may drive her once in a decade or two. It needs to be marked."

"You're such an idiot," Sam sighed, but grabbed the knife and quickly carved S.W. below Dean's.

"Me and you Sam, we belong inside her," Dean murmured. "You have Jess now, though, so you'll settle down in a picket-fence house, but once in a while, we can drive across the country in her. Go to a concert, stay in crappy motels, and order off slightly suspicious restaurants. It'll be awesome."

"Yeah, Dean. Whatever you say," Sam said awkwardly. Dean didn't notice Sam's eyes narrow in suspicion, nor did he notice the quick nod he sent Bobby's way.

"Alright, boy, stop salivating all over that poor car," Bobby called to them. "Why don't we go inside and start on that wonderful food Jody and Ellen brought?"

The prospect of food was the only thing that could tear Dean away from his baby. He wasn't disappointed when he stepped into Bobby's familiar kitchen and saw the mountain of food on the table. There was roast beef, smashed potatoes, green beans, pecan pie, stewed vegetables, roasted corn, and chili.

"Today is a special occasion," Bobby said loudly, his large frame hidden by the door as he looked for something in his cabinet. "So I'm pulling out Kate's old silver ware."

"Don't you think that's a little over the top?" Jo asked, but she walked over to help him carry the box.

"Nah, it'll be nice," Sam smiled. "After all, this is the first time we are all together in like, five years. We're still missing Jess parents, they won't come in until tomorrow."

"Okay, everyone, asses to the table," Jess said cheerily, taking the empty seat besides Sam. Dean took the one to his right, but Gabriel gave up a seat next to his wife Kali to sit next to him and leave Cas between Jody and Ellen.

"Want a beer, Dean?" Bobby asked, offering him an open bottle.

"I already have one," Dean said, motioning to the bottle he had grabbed out of Bobby's fridge.

"I'll take it, then," Gabriel chirped in, grabbing the bottle.

"Try the green beans. They're delicious," Sam said, smiling down to him.

"You're the hippie, Sam," Dean said, stabbing a piece of meat with his fork. "I'm a man, I eat meat."

"I'm sure you do," Gabriel muttered, and Dean shot him a deadly stare.

Dean dug into his food with gusto, glad to stay out of the friendly chatter. Apparently, this Bobby had worked with John, and had quickly become his friend. Ellen had been friends with Kate, Bobby's late wife, and had never met John or Mary Winchester. Jody was the sheriff in town, and she had a thing with Bobby. Ash was Jo's boyfriend-ha!-and Chuck's best friend. Garth was an employee in Bobby's garage that had quickly become like a son to the old hunter. Dean was actually surprised to see any of them. He had never thought that their lifes could intersect when the supernatural wasn't around to drag them into each other's lives.

Dean knew everyone felt awkward with him in the table, which was probably the reason why Bobby and Sam were being so nice to him. Bobby offered him a beer every ten minutes, but Dean had declined since the second one, not wanting to get too drunk. Sam made sure he was always content, offering him water, passing him the salt, and even standing up to get him his second beer.

All in all, it was a very good day, and it was soon turning into the night.

"Well, I think I should be heading back home," Jody was the first to speak. "It's getting late.

"We should be going, too," Ellen added, and Jo and Ash stood up with her. "Congratulations again, Jess, Sam. I'll see you guys tomorrow, hopefully with better ideas."

"Here, I'll walk you," Jess said, intertwining her arm with Jo's.

"Hey, Dean, what about a drink?" Sam asked, handing him a bottle. "Let's go outside to your crappy car."

"Is blasphemy all that can come out of your mouth? Because I don't think I can be friends with a non-believer," Dean said in mock-sincerity, and followed Sam.

Sam led him to his baby, and leaned on the hood, beer in hand. The lazy stance was so familiar, Dean felt a pang of longing in his chest. He wanted to be back home, with Sammy next to him, and his baby back to its beautiful self.

"I was really surprised you decided to come," Sam murmured as Dean walked to stand next to him.

"And miss this? Not for the world," Dean grinned. "We're brothers, Sam, and brothers stick together. We're all we have left, Sammy, just you and me."

"No, it's just me,"Sam said and before Dean could say anything, Sam turned sharply and puched him in the face, turning the world black.

"_Silver didn't work, and he didn't react to salt."_

_"Holy water only soaked him, gums and wrists look normal."_

_"I'm telling you, he's clean. I would've noticed if there was something wrong."_

_"Everyone noticed something wrong! Are you blind?"_

_"That's an anti-possesion tattoo on his chest, brother. Did you noticed that?"_

Dean regained consciousness quickly, years of practice kicking in. He kept his eyes closed, even as his wrists tested the ropes holding him tight. He quickly counted the voices: four. More if they hadn't spoken yet. He was tied to a chair, his wrists behind his back and his ankles strapped to the legs. He could feel the blade he had strapped to his lower leg pressing against him, but he wouldn't be able to get to it. And since he was wearing Cas's short-sleeved shirt, he didn't have a blade up his sleeve.

Now that he had assessed his situation-which was, quite simply, fucked-he opened his eyes. He quickly recognized Bobby's panic room, and the faces of his captors: Sam, Bobby, Gabriel, and Cas.

"Well, ladies, I'm all for surprise bachelor parties, but don't you think Sam should be the one strapped to the chair?" Dean asked mockingly.

"Can it, asshole," Sam snapped. He was the one standing closest to him, a wickedly sharp blade held loosely in his hands. "What have you done to my brother?"

Everything clicked quite suddenly. The newpaper clippings, the silverware, Bobby's fucking panic room. "Damn," he groaned, closing his eyes. "You're a hunter."

"You seem surprised," Gabriel said dryly and Dean's eyes snapped to him.

"What are _you_?"

"You really walked in on a family of hunters without knowing?" Bobby barked. "What kind of monster are you?"

"I'm not," Dean said, struggling against his bonds. "Look, I'm Dean, okay. Just Dean. Sammy, c'mon, let me go."

"DON'T," Sam shouted, suddenly livid. "Don't you call me that."

"Sam," Cas said sharply. "He passed all of our tests. He's human."

"You stay out of it," Sam whipped out harshly. "You were supposed to keep an eye on him, Cas. That's the whole point of you being his assitant!"

"If I remember correctly, that was a favor," Gabriel snapped, quickly backing up his brother. He's not our responsibilty. The only reason why we're helping you is because you saved Anna's life."

"Cas, you're a hunter, too?" Dean asked, surprised.

Cas didn't answer his questions, and he didn't glance at him either, instead trying to desperately find out why his hands were suddenly so interesting.

"Enough with the games!" Sam snapped. "I say we just kill it, then go look for Dean."

"We should make it talk first," Bobby said. "We don't even know what it is."

"Cut the head off," Gabriel shrugged. "That's always worked with me and Kali."

"I am NOT a monster," Dean shouted. "Look, I can explain, okay. Just let me go."

"Like hell."

"Sam, let him talk," Cas intervened. "Something isn't right here."

"Of course it isn't!" Sam shouted. "My brother suddenly starts treating you like a person, he comes to visit me, he fucking _talks_ to me, and you don't think that's just a tinsy bit weird, Cas? What about his fucking obession with that piece of crap car? He asks you about it, he asks me, then it so happens that Bobby has the car parked in his garage?"

"Hey, don't talk about baby like that, Sam!" Dean snapped. "And if you would listen, I could fucking tell you that _I am_ Dean, just not from this dimension."

There was a moment of silence, then, "kill it," Gabriel said.

"What? No!" Dean exclaimed. "Look," he quickly continued. "I know it sounds weird, but listen to me, okay? I'm Dean, but from another dimension. Sam and I were hunting a witch back home, and she was a bitch, so she sent me to this dimension, where I'm a fucking fatass that's a shit brother to Sam. I thought the supernatural didn't exist on this world, and that Sam was just a regular college guy. Look, I was just planning on staying here until Sam, _my_ Sam, found a way to get me back home."

"And what makes you think he's looking for a way?" Gabriel sneered. "I would've just left you for dead."

"Sam wouldn't do that," Dean growled. "He's looking for a way to get me back, I know it."

"This is bull," Sam said, exasperated.

"Wait," Bobby cut in. He turned to Dean. "Now, I tried every trick on the book, but you're clearly a human. Now, that only leaves your crackpot story as explanation. But you're going to have to answer a few questions first."

"Seems fair," Dean sighed.

"You said you were a hunter, you were hunting that witch...how did you become a hunter?" Bobby asked.

Dean frowned. "What kind of question is that?"

"Answer it," Sam growled.

Dean sighed. "Fine. Most hunters get thrown in this world because of the death of a loved one, right? I mean, Bobby, you're wife was possessed by a demon, so you had to kill her. For me and Sam, it happened when Mom died. You were six months old, Sam, when a demon snuck into your nursery. Mom caught him, and he killed her, burning the house down with her. Dad became obsessed with the supernatural after that, taking us with him on hunts. I started training when I was six; Sam, you started when you were eight."

"What was the name of the demon?" Sam whispered, eyes trained on Dean.

"Azazel, the yellow-eyed demon," Dean replied.

"Yellow?"

"He was apparently high in the hell hierachy," Dean shrugged. "Ganked the son of a bitch with the Colt a while back."

"The Colt?" Gabriel asked curiously.

"The gun built by Samuel Colt. It can kill everything," Dean explained. "Look, I'm more than happy to talk, but do you think I could loose the shackles? I feel like a sub."

"Funny you know what that feels like," Gabriel snarked.

"I swear, Gabriel, I will gank you,"Dean growled. "You owe me, for killing me a hundred times."

"Ooo, please do explain,"Gabriel smirked.

Dean stayed quiet, eying Sam meaningfully. Finally, his brother seemed to understand what he was asking, because he used his knife to cut through Dean's ropes.

"Fine, you're free, now talk," Sam snapped.

"I gotta explain it from the beginning," Dean sighed. "It's long."

"Give us the Spark Notes version," Sam growled.

Dean sighed again. "Fine. We grew up hunters, Sam. I had my first kill when I was thirteen. You had yours when you were fifteen. I had my first solo hunt at sixteen. Yours was technically at sixteen, though you didn't encounter an actually monster by yourself until you were eighteen."

"Wait...why did Sam learn after you?" Cas asked for the first time.

"Because I begged Dad to do that,"Dean shrugged. "I vomited all over the ground after I killed that vampire...Sammy would've fainted. He was scrawny when he was younger, smaller, thin. Besides, Sam never did learn well from Dad. I had to make sure I had taught Sam enough to take on Dad's lessons. "

"You said...you said the demon was in my nursery," Sam whispered. "What was it doing there?"

"Feeding you his blood," Dean replied bluntly. "Just one drop, but that was enough. You see, Azazel was recruiting soldiers to fight in the side of hell. But first, they would fight against each other till death, and the survivor would become the new King of Hell. You died, Sam."

"But you just said-."

"I didn't _leave_ him dead, you idiot," Dean snapped, shutting up Gabriel.

"What do you mean?" Bobby barked.

"I sold my soul," Dean replied, staring back at him with intent eyes. "I got one year, and Sam got his life back."

"You-you sold your soul for me?" Sam whispered.

"That's what we Winchesters do," Dean laughed humorlessly. "After all, Dad sold his soul for me. You know that crash that kill your parents? Well, we had that crash, too. Except it was you, me, and Dad. I almost died. I was about to leave with my reaper, but then Dad pulled me back, selling his soul in the process."

"How did you break the deal?" Cas suddenly asked. "Did you kill the demon that held the deal?" His eyes were pouring into Dean, as if trying to find the answers inside his head himself.

"I didn't," Dean replied. He kept his eyes on Cas as he spoke. "I went to hell. For forty years...until I was saved by you."

Cas's eyes widened slightly, and he kept his eyes on Dean, a flicker of emotions running through his eyes. Dean couldn't look away...this wasn't his Cas, but his eyes were so _open_. They might not be as bright, or as blue, but they shone with emotions that the angel back home kept tightly controlled. This was a Castiel as a human, and as such, he was equal to Dean...he was a possibility of something he couldn't have with the angel back home.

Sam coughed awkwardly, and Dean snapped his eyes away from Cas.

"Alright. We need to figure out a way to send you back," Sam said, placing the knife down on the metal table holding all of the supernatural cra they had used on him.

"What? No, Sam is probably taking care of it back home," Dean shrugged. "Let's just ride the wave."

"NO," Sam said forcefully. "We're sending you back."

"Sam, I need time to fix this crap," Dean explained. "I need to show you that this isn't right...you're my brother, man! I can't just simply leave things the way they are."

"So that was your brilliant plan, huh?" Sam spat out. "Come here and pretend to be my loving brother? You were going to shower me with kindness and make me believe that you actually cared about me, huh? Well, you know what, it might have actually worked. But what would've happened after you left, Dean? Did you ever think about that? My brother would've been back, and he wouldn't treat me like you do, Dean. Can you imagine how it would make me feel to get rejected by him after you treated me like family? Don't you think it would've hurt me? I would probably start to think that you tricked me. You pulled one over me, just to see me hurt."

Sam was trembling, though he was trying desperately to stop. His eyes were shining bright, but the tears hadn't dropped yet. He was fighting hard to keep his composure, and it was physically painful for Dean to see his little brother so vulnerable.

"Sam, I can fix this, I can fix _us_," Dean begged.

Sam let out a strangled, mocking laugh. "How can something be broken if it was never built?"

"Sam," Dean said, and it came out more like a pained whined.

Sam ignored him and turned away. "We'll start the case right away. Bobby, Cas, hit the books. We need to find something with enough juice to send him back. Gabriel, talk to Kali, see if she knows if any of her old buddies can pull something like this. I'll go check on Jess."

Sam left the room, closing the door softly behind him. Dean could only watch as the happy life he had envisioned for Sam softly but surely started to crumble.


	6. The Wrong One

Sam closed the door softly behind him and quickly put as much space between himself and Dean. Tears were now flowing freely down his face, but he was thankfully to whatever deity was up there that they had waited until he wasn't looking at Dean.

_Sammy, c'mon...I'm so happy for you, man...it's just you and me against the world, Sammy...we're all we got...c'mon, baby brother, let's have some fun...cheer up, Sam! Everything's fine..._

Sam closed his eyes and tried to shut off his brother's soft voice. It was all a lie. He should have known. He was stupid, so fucking stupid. Of course Dean wouldn't treat him like that! His brother had never shown any kind of emotion in front of him...not since the accident. He should've known instantly...but he had wanted so badly for it to be true. He had wanted to think that his brother loved him, just like he used to.

_Sammy! Mom made cherry pie! If you want a slice, you better hurry up...this trophy is so big, Sammy...god, I'm so proud of you, Sam...good luck, Sammy!_

He had always looked up to Dean, ever since they were little. Dean, the loyal one. The one who everyone loved. Yeah, Sam hung out with more friends than Dean...but they weren't really his friends. All of them had left him after his parent's deaths, but Dean...all of his friends were there for him, helping him heal.

Dean was the kind one, the brave one, the one his mother would sing to sleep while Dad told Sam big boys didn't let their mothers sing them to sleep. Sam wished he hadn't listened to John. He wished he had asked his mother to sing for him. Dean always looked so happy after she sung Hey Jude...so peaceful, so loved.

"Sam."

Sam quickly wiped his eyes and turned to glare at Bobby, who ignored the eye-daggers and sat next to him.

"How're you doing, boy?"

"Peachy," Sam growled.

"Don't lie to me, kid," Bobby snapped. "I know you...now, how're you doing?"

"Why aren't you helping Cas? The sooner that guy is sent back to his own dimension, the better," Sam said.

"Cas can handle a little research by himself," Bobby sighed. "And Dean is pretty upset. I think you should talk to him...he seems like a good kid."

"He is. That's the fucking problem," Sam spat. "God, what was he thinking? If he and the other Sam have such a fucking good relationship, what did he want from me? I was fine the way things were. Yeah, so what if my brother didn't go to my wedding? So what if he never called me back? So. Fucking. What."

"He was trying to help," Bobby said softly. "It seems like things were different for them, Sam. This Dean...he knows about demons, he lived it...he _saw_ his mother die at the hands of demons. Our Dean didn't have that luxury, he only had your word and-."

"AND HE SHOULD'VE BELIEVED ME!" Sam yelled, ten years of spent up anger suddenly pouring out. "I asked him, Bobby...I _begged _him to believe me. He should've believed me. I would've believed him. God, I would have done anything he asked of me. Don't you think I know it was my fault? Don't you think every night I pray to God, pray to anyone really, to change the past? They should never have gone to pick me up. They should've been with Dean, safe from that fucking demon...but they weren't, and they died, and I needed my brother, and he left me. He left me alone to deal. If I didn't have you, Bobby, I would've gone mad."

The anger left him as suddenly as it had arrived, and Sam dropped his head on his hands, defeated. "What's so fucking great about that other Sam, anyway?" he mumbled. "That he gets to have a brother like that?"

"Hey!" Bobby said sharply, grabbing his shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with you, Sam, you hear me? Your brother is just a damn fool that won't open his eyes...though I don't think he's going to be as ignorant what with being sent to another dimension. Trust me, boy, things are going to get a lot better."

"Yeah," Sam sighed, but both men knew he wasn't buying what Bobby was selling. "Sure thing, Bobby."

"You're such a fucking asshole, Dean Winchester."

"What the hell did I do wrong?" Dean exclaimed, glaring at the older Novak.

"Like you could be that stupid," Gabriel snapped.

"Gabe, aren't you supposed to be talking to Kali?" Cas asked softly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going," Gabriel muttered. "Asshole," he said one last time to Dean before walking out of the panic room, closing the door much harder behind him than Bobby and Sammy had.

"So you're going to say I was a fucking idiot, too?" Dean snapped at Cas.

"No. It wasn't that hard for me to believe you, actually," Cas admitted. "I guess because I'm the only one that knows how much Dean cares about his brother."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, surprised. "I thought I was a freaking asshole that hated Sam."

"He doesn't hate Sam, Dean," Cas murmured. "At least I think he doesn't. And I've known him long enough to actually _know _him."

"Really? 'Cause so far, the consensus is 'asshole'," Dean said.

"I think he was upset with Sam at the beginning. His parents had just died, and to him, Sam made a big joke about it, bringing in demons and stuff instead of dealing with it. And then there was the whole problem with the inheritance..."

"That's another thing. I don't give a fuck about money...why the hell did I fight Sam about it?"

"The papers have it wrong," Cas replied, smiling softly. "Sam...he didn't take Dean's disbelief kindly. He lashed out, pushing him away. Words were exchange and it ended with Sam saying he didn't need anything from Dean. But their parents' will was very specific...no matter what happened with the inheritance, Dean and Sam were going to college."

"No matter how mad we were at each other, it should've have ended like this," Dean said. "I can't imagine...I don't know how that guy manages without Sam."

"He doesn't," Cas said, smiling wryly. "I started working with Dean because Sam asked me to. He was worried about him and wanted a hunter close by to protect him. And I have to admit, I thought Dean was an ass at first. But then I started noticing little things about him...like how he had a Californian newspaper delivered to his office every morning. Or how he started putting money into a savings accountant after Jess had that pregnancy scare. Or how he never asked me if I had received any messages from Sam, but would grow hot-tempered if I didn't deliver any. Or how he immediately booked a plane ticket when I told him about Sam's party before he nervously talked himself out of it, cancelled, then got plastered and I had to pick him up from behind a bar."

"You're a good friend, Cas," Dean said, smiling softly at the dark-haired man.

"Isn't it funny, though?" Cas asked, glancing up at the concrete ceiling. "We're pining after each other, but we can only admit it to the wrong version."

Dean stared at Cas in shock, but he only smiled softly. Dean swallowed the immediate denial that sprung to his lips, and nodded. "I guess it is because even though you look like him, you're very different. Cas would have never noticed things like that. He's not very good at social interactions."

"It sucks," Cas frowned. "I mean, me and you, we're perfect for each other. But Dean, _my_ Dean...he would never want me. And not just because I'm a man, but because I'm a hunter. I believe in the things that ruined his life...they're such an important part of my life, just like they're yours."

"Yeah, I get it," Dean sighed. It was true. If they had been born in each other's dimensions, things would've been so much better. Cas would be human, and Dean would have a chance with him. He wouldn't have to worry about eternal damnation, or Cas's immortality, or even the fact that his body wasn't really his, but a vessel. Their biggest problem would be their gender, and Dean was so far gone, he had long ago stopped giving a fuck about the fact that Cas had a dick instead of a vagina.

"Hey, Cas...am I interrupting something?" Bobby asked, opening the door suddenly.

"No. Need something, Bobby?" Cas asked.

"Yeah. Gotta a load of books back in the house that need reading."

"A witch is our best chance now," Dean piped in. "Not many things have the juice to do dimension transfers. I mean, a demon can, but I'm not about to make a deal with one. What about angels, you guys cozy with them?"

"Angels don't exist, Dean," Cas answered, frowning at him.

"They do in my world," Dean shrugged.

"And you just decided to mention this NOW?!" Bobby shouted, making Dean and Cas jump suddenly.

"Uh, yeah….why?" Dean asked, still freaked out by the sudden outburst.

"Oh, I don't know. You didn't think it was important to tell us that you're all buddy-buddy with freaking _angels_?"

"Well, Bobby, I was also going to tell you that it rains from the sky down, or that I can't find Waldo, but I was a bit worried they weren't obvious enough," Dean snapped. "How was I supposed to know angels don't exist in this dimension?"

"Fine," Bobby snapped. "But this changes everything, right?"

"Uh, what exactly do you mean?" Cas asked, frowning at Bobby.

"Well, we might be able to get this guy back to his world with a help of an angel," Bobby explained, glancing at Dean. "You think any of them is looking for you?"

"Uh, yeah, pretty sure a couple of them are. They're pretty eager to get their hands on my perky ass," Dean muttered sarcastically. Zachariah was probably having a field day with the other Dean at this moment.

"Well, then we should be looking for a psychic," Cas said, hopping on Bobby's train of thought. "To contact the angel."

"Wait, you just said angels didn't exist in this world," Dean frowned.

"They don't, but psychics can talk through dimensions. After all, ghost basically live in a different plain from ours. This will be the same thing," Cas explained.

"We're going to need a pretty strong psychic, then," Dean shrugged.

"I know of one," Bobby said. "Just let me make a few calls. We still have Kali anyway, she might be able to help us out." He took his phone out and walked out to get better reception.

"Yeah, about that….Kali is not a goddess in this world, by any chance?" Dean asked Cas, staring after Bobby.

"No, why?" Cas frowned.

"Um, just 'cause," Dean shrugged, shuddering at the memory of the beautiful woman attacking Lucifer.

"Don't tell Gabriel. I'll never hear the end of it," Cas said quickly, and gave him a soft smirk.

The door opened softly and Sam walked in. He wasn't looking at Dean, but the words were clearly directed to him. "Tomorrow we're going to see a psychic. You're coming with us. You should be heading back home pretty soon after that. Things will be back to normal."

"Sam, I-."

Sam walked out before Dean could finish his sentence, leaving him staring at the empty spot he had left.

"It's going to be okay, Dean," Cas murmured, squeezing his arm. "He's just hurt."

"I know," Dean replied, but Sam's rejection hurt….he'd really fucked up this time.


	7. Dean vs Dean

Sam didn't think things could get weirder than having a slightly overweight, emotionally-attuned Dean sitting in front of him, but clearly he was wrong.

"Um, not that I'm complaining… or judging… but since when are you a health nut?" Sam asked curiously, watching as Dean dug into his salad with gusto.

"Well, living off pie and beer isn't a good idea if you plan on living for a while," Dean muttered, but he looked a bit self-conscious. "Beer really adds on a few pounds, and I used to basically live in a bar."

"I guess without a hunter's workout, Dean wouldn't be in such good shape," Sam agreed thoughtfully, but he knew there was something more to it. "I guess a good body also helps with the ladies right?"

"Right," Dean said, and Sam was surprised to see a faint blush in his cheeks.

"Dude… do you like somebody?"

"What? No! What are you talking about?" Dean snapped, but he was definitely red now and his eyes wouldn't stay on an object for long.

"Dude, you're totally pining after somebody! Who is it? Cassie? Lisa?"

"No. Shut up, Sam," Dean muttered, ducking his head down.

"Hmm. Well, finish up. We shouldn't stay here too long," Sam said, growing serious. Cas had advised for them to stay on the move. They'd had a couple of run-ins with demons, though nothing Sam couldn't handle by himself. He had been a little worried about Dean at first, but the other man had quickly adjusted. Well, at least he was less likely to freeze up now.

The rustle of feathers caught them by surprise, but Sam acted quickly, drawing out the angel-blade Cas had left behind. He had decided against angel-warding, knowing Cas would keep an eye out for them, but he was still worried about the other angels, the ones loyal to Zachariah. Sam didn't feel like facing one of the fearsome warriors without a competent Dean to back him up.

"Cas, it's so good to see you," Sam said, sighing in relief at the sight of the shorter man.

"I've been contacted by a medium," Cas replied, forgoing greetings. "It seems Dean is trying to reach out to me."

"Then what are you doing here?" Dean asked, more curious than worried. He was strangely intimidated by the angel, but not in a normal this-being-can-kill-me-in-a-second way. It was more like the angel made him self-conscious, a look Sam rarely saw on his brother.

"Zachariah has set a net around that dimension to keep me out," Cas replied. "He needs time to try and get to you, and sending you back to your home is not to his advantage."

"How are we going to get to Dean, then?" Sam snapped. "My brother is stuck in some other world and I can't do anything about it."

"I can't get in through the net, but that doesn't mean things can't get out," Cas replied. "All I need is to talk to Dean and guide him to a source with enough power to make the switch."

"How would you do that?" Dean asked. "I thought you couldn't reach in because of the net?"

"Physically, it is impossible," Cas replied. "But there are planes in this world that angels can't interfere with. The only way to reach Dean would be going through your dreams."

"You mean you want to go inside my head?" Dean asked as his voice rose in pitch.

"It will not hurt," Cas replied, tilting his head.

"That's not what I'm worried about!" Dean snapped, blushing furiously. "You're going to be digging through my brain, reading my thoughts!"

"I won't see anything that you don't want me to see," Cas assured him. "I respect your privacy."

"Yeah, right."

"It's the only option," Sam cut in. "He'll do it."

"You don't decide squat for me, Sam," Dean growled, and he suddenly looked like the brother Sam had grown up with.

"Dean, this is the only way," Sam snapped. "What are you so worried about?"

"It will be wise for you to come as well, Sam," Cas added.

"What? Why?" Dean hurriedly asked, getting even redder, if that were possible.

"I don't think Dean would like you very much," Cas replied in an uncharacteristic show of sensibility. "He tends to be very protective of Sam, a quality you don't seem to share."

What Cas had said was true, Sam realized. His brother would have no problem leaving this Dean to deal with Zachariah on his own. This doppelganger would need protection but the only person Sam trusted with his brother's life (even in a different dimension) was himself. However, going by Dean's stories, Sam wasn't too sure his look-a-like would be eager to help. Perhaps he could visit other-Sam's dream world and convince him. And maybe, he would be able to fix the broken relationship these other Winchesters had.

"Yeah, I think that's best," Sam said, the wheels in his mind still turning with thoughts.

"You're both talking like I already said yes," Dean growled.

"Oh, come on, dude! You're going to be in my head too, technically. It's a two-way road."

"You're going to have control over what we see," Cas added. "It is your dream-world, and you make the rules."

Dean looked slightly appeased by that, but it still took a little bit of physical force from Sam for him to agree.

"Alright fine!" Dean exclaimed, rubbing his arm where Sam had punched him. "But if any of you wander off the yellow path, I'll send you to dream-hell."

"Clowns or midgets?" Sam grinned.

"Shut up, Sam."

Bobby's psychic turned out to be Pam, and although she didn't have as much luck contacting Cas as she had the first time, it was probably for the best. Dean still couldn't get the sight of Pam's burned eyes from his mind.

Sam still wasn't talking to him unless necessary. Apparently, Jess didn't know that her fiancé was a part-time hunter of the supernatural. Of course, Sam didn't want to hear what Dean thought about that, but that didn't stop him from ranting to Cas.

"I mean, he's going to spend his life with her and he can't tell her?" Dean exclaimed, pacing a hole in Bobby's floor. Much to his embarrassment (but mostly relief) Dean was sharing a room with Cas since Gabriel's dislike for him didn't surpass his libido for his wife, Kali.

"People don't react to the supernatural excitedly, Dean," Cas sighed. He had long ago given up on getting the anxious man to sit down. "The last time he tried to convince somebody, they called him crazy and walked out of his life."

"Low blow, dude," Dean muttered, knowing that Cas was referencing his other self.

Cas shrugged. "I'm just saying, Sam has a point."

"Yeah, but Jess has a right," Dean shot back. "I'm not saying he needs to tell her, I'm just saying that if he decides to keep quiet, then he needs to stay out. A hunter's life is not meant for families, Cas, especially when you're keeping secrets." Learned that one the hard way, Dean thought bitterly.

"You're right," Cas said so quietly that Dean almost didn't hear him.

"You okay man?" Dean asked curiously.

"Yes. I'm just a bit tired. I think I'm gonna go ahead and lie down," Cas said. "You want the bed? I can sleep on the floor."

"Nah, man. Take the bed, I don't mind," Dean said, pulling out a couple of blankets from the closet.

Cas stared quietly at Dean as he made himself comfortable on the ground. The staring wasn't new to Dean (this Cas had nothing on his angel) so he simply turned his back on those amazing blue eyes and closed his own.

He didn't feel sleep taking over him, but he was suddenly standing on a freshly mown lawn, a large house in front of him. Frowning, he looked around. What the hell? He knew he was asleep, he remembered laying down and closing his eyes, but why the hell was he dreaming a house?

"Hello, Dean."

He quickly turned around and was almost knocked down with relief when his eyes fell on the familiar tan trench coat and penetrating blue eyes.

"Cas," he breathed, taking a step forward. But he immediately stopped when his eyes fell on the two people behind Cas: Sam and… Dean.

"You," Dean growled, advancing on the suddenly nervous man, but Sam quickly stepped in front of him.

"Dean, calm down," Sam said soothingly, placing a hand out protectively in front of the other Dean.

"Calm down? Calm down? I will not calm down!" Dean yelled, straining to see his jerk of a double over Sam's gigantic frame. "Do you know how bad our relationship is messed up because of him?"

"Yes," Sam replied, surprising him. "And I also know it's not all his fault, so why don't you calm down and listen?"

With great effort, Dean took two steps back and folded his arms. "I'm listening," he growled, eyes trained on his doppelganger.

"I will not be able to pull you out of the other dimension, Dean," Cas spoke and raised a hand to halt Dean's expected protests. "Zachariah has locked me out. However, you can still get out on your own."

"Angels don't exist in this dimension," Dean said, shaking his head. "I don't think there's anything over here with enough juice to pull me out."

"That's not the only problem," Sam added, still standing half-way in front of the other Dean. "Zachariah has his eyes on Dean, and even if we switch you back, he will try to get him to say yes."

"Michael can wear his ass to prom for all I care," Dean muttered. "Not my problem."

"The apocalypse is all our problem, Dean," Cas said, lowering his head slightly to give Dean a menacing look. "We need to protect him."

"How do you expect to do that?"

"I'm going to have a talk with myself," Sam said, sounding oddly pleased. "What?" he added when Dean turned to stare at him. "When else am I'm going to be able to say that without sounding like a complete head case?"

"I will also visit my vessel's dream world," Cas added. "He will have information about this other dimension that I do not possess. Dean, I think it will be for the best for you to talk to this Dean. We can't afford for him to say 'yes.'"

"Wait, you're going to leave me alone?" the other Dean asked, his voice betraying a hint of fear.

"Don't worry, this is a dream. He can't really kill you," Cas said before grabbing Sam's elbow and leaving with a flutter of wings.

Dean turned his eyes to his double, eyeing the long hair and round belly distastefully. "So," he began, grinning widely, "Let's have a talk."

The other man (or Douche-Dean as he had started to think of him) gave him a weary look. "So I guess you're pretty pissed, huh?"

"Pissed doesn't even begin to cover it, buddy," Dean growled, losing the smile. "You fucking left Sam! The first thing Dad told us: take care of Sam. Don't let your brother get hurt. Its basics, man! If it's going to hurt Sam, you don't fucking do it!"

"I took take care of him!" Douche-Dean yelled back, anger spurring him on. "He was the one who walked away. After I didn't believe him… he just left. I was ready to be there for him, to forgive him for what he did—."

"What he did?" Dean yelled. "He didn't do shit! It was a fucking demon that killed our parents!"

"I didn't know that," Douche-Dean shot back, though his voice was much softer. "To me, my brother was making a joke out of our parents' deaths. I understood that he was grieving, that it was going to take a while, but when it didn't stop… five years later, and he was still spewing that demon crap. How do you think I felt? I was trying to be there for him, to help him move on, but he kept pushing me back, insisting that a demon—a freaking demon!—had killed our parents."

"How you felt?" Dean spat, his voice making the word an insult. "What does it fucking matter how you felt? It was a simple case of trusting your brother. Like Dad always said—."

"I wasn't raised by Dad, Dean. I was raised by Mom," Douche-Dean interrupted and Dean froze at the words. "I wasn't raised with shotguns and salt-rounds. I wasn't left alone in hotel rooms with the threats of monsters over my head and Sam's life in my hands. I was raised there," he said, pointing to the house behind Dean. Dean turned around and suddenly recognize the house. It was his home… the home where Mary had died. "I was raised by two parents that took care of me and my brother. I didn't have to worry about Sam—I had Mom and Dad to do that."

"How was she?" The words left his mouth before he could stop them and he froze on the spot, fearing the answer.

"She was amazing," other-Dean replied, wistful. "She used to bake this amazing apple pie that had the house smelling like it for days… there was this flowery apron that was ages old, but she never threw it away, saying it was lucky. She used to put her hair in a ponytail and sing "Hey Jude" while she cooked. Sam would be outside on the grill with Dad, but I would stay inside. She always let me lick the spoon after she was done mixing the batter."

Dean couldn't imagine it. It had been so long since he had looked at his mother's face, so long since he had heard her singing voice. He had forgotten that feeling that simply said 'home.' When he tried to search for it, when he tried to dig in and find it, all he could think of was his baby on the road, Sam next to him.

"I wish I could have what you have," his double spoke and Dean was surprised to see that they were standing next to each other; he hadn't noticed the man move. His eyes were on the house as well, a deep sadness in them that Dean understood. "I grew up in a home, I grew up loved… but you, you still have it. You have Sam… he looks proud when he talks about you, you know? Sam never gave me that look; he used to reserve it only for Dad. And you have Cas—."

"Dude, don't even start. You have me beat in that department," Dean laughed.

"What are you talking about?" the other man asked, frowning.

Dean stared at him. Was he really that blind? "Cas has the hots for you, dude!"

"No he doesn't," he replied quickly, his ears turning bright pink.

"You like him too!" Dean laughed. "Oh, this is priceless."

"You like Cas, too," his double replied, shrugging in defeat. "You can't judge me for not making a move on my Cas when you haven't done anything with yours."

"What? You can't compare the two," Dean said. "My Cas is a freaking Angel of the Lord, not my secretary. So what if he's a hunter? He likes you and he's willing to put up with your sorry ass. So I say, take the wheel and hit the gas."

"I don't really think Cas likes me all that much," other-Dean muttered, eyes glued to the floor. "I haven't been the kindest person to him."

"That's true. You were a pretty big dick," Dean conceded. "But Cas is amazing like that. All you have to do is apologize, lose the hair, shed a few pounds, and go after him. If you don't, I might take him for myself."

"Why do I have to confess to my Cas when you don't?" other-Dean insisted. "I have as much chance as you do."

"What part of Cas being a wave of celestial intent do you not understand?" Dean said, exasperated. "His body isn't even his own body! It belongs to some poor guy name Jimmy Novak. At least your Cas is human!"

"It all just sounds like excuses to me," his twin shrugged. "No, hear me out," he said before Dean could interrupt. "If I tell Cas that I like him and for some reason he decides to give me a chance, it's going to be for life. I'm not going to give him up that easily, not after I finally get to have him. And if you're me, then you're going to be the same. The only difference between the two of us is that your Cas won't grow old, but then again, who the fuck cares."

"It's not that simple," Dean insisted.

"You're not making it simple!" the other replied, frustrated. "If he says yes, if he's willing to have you, who cares if he's not human? The bad things are going to happen anyway, you might as well enjoy the ride. Look, I'm not doing anything unless you are," he finished, glaring at Dean.

"I'm fucking annoying," Dean muttered.

"Yeah, I don't know how Sam keeps up with you," the other man replied swiftly, giving him a snarky grin. "So… weren't you supposed to be talking to me about some guy named Zachariah?"

"Oh yeah…"


End file.
